Unforgiving
by xXUsEdXx
Summary: "Curses are like parasites upon the red string of fate. They intertwine and lock within the red until we all pay the price. You set it all into motion this way." -summary subject to change-
1. Prologue

_So, everybody. You know how I discontinued Unforgiving? Well, I decided to revamp it. As in a total makeover rewrite. _

_It's not going to be the same as the original (though I do have the chapters from the old version), but it will go how I wanted it to be. In a way. _

* * *

_My mother told me a story_…

The devil was looking for a soul, a pure soul, to devour accordingly, for souls were the staples of the diets of devils.

As the story goes, this devil found such a soul. A young human girl whom lived quietly among the disdainful souls, whom lived her life day to day with no quarrel, was one such prey that the devil desired. The devil waited for a chance to strike, to snare this pure soul in his clutches. One night, the devil had his chance.

The girl was returning to her quaint home before she was accosted. The stranger had pinned her frail arms and was about to have their way with the girl, whose shriek cut through the night. The devil came upon the stranger and upon his weak, mortal flesh came his wrath. Under his claws, the wicked mortal was nothing but ash. When the devil turned his red gaze upon the female he longed to devour.

The female returned the devil's gaze with one of her own and the cunning devil reached for her, his claws bare inches from the flesh of her pale cheeks.

"Who are you?" The girl breathed into the night, her words so soft, yet they fell upon the devil's ears. "An angel?"

"I assure you, foolish mortal, that I am no angel," replied the devil in a haughty tone, his claws now caressing the girl's cheeks in an almost loving manner. "I did not save you merely for your sake. I desire your soul, nothing more."

The girl's gaze was unwavering as her eyes pierced the devil's brazenly. The devil was astounded, unable to find the stench of fear upon her soft flesh. "Are you afraid, girl?" he hissed, baring his fangs.

"I do not fear devils," the girl proclaimed without a quiver in her voice.

For once in his eternal life, the mortal girl whose soul he desired at that very moment impressed the devil. So he did not take her soul as he intended. Instead, he let the girl live.

Days had become weeks. Weeks had become months. Months became years. The devil watched the girl from the shadows as she lived her quaint life. It seemed the girl had forgotten about him, had dismissed him as a figment of her imagination until she had spoken.

"Devil, why do you watch me?" she asked in such an innocent voice. "Come, let me see you."

The devil should have not heeded the mortal female. Alas, he did as she requested of him and revealed himself to her, in the guise of a mortal man. "How did you realize I was in the shadows?" he asked of her.

"The shadows stir whenever your presence is near," answered the girl, and she smiled at the devil as though they were old friends. The devil did not find himself offended that the girl's eyes glittered in such a way.

"Impressive, girl," the devil murmured, bowing. "Not all have such keen eyes."

"I just wanted to thank you properly," the girl replied, bowing to the devil in gratitude. It was not a form of submission like he would receive in hell from the lower level demons. He wanted this girl to bow before him as he subjugated her and took her soul. Her soul was the ultimate prize and he would not rest until he took it.

So he convinced the girl to let him stay with her in her humble home and stayed by her side. The closer he got to his prey, the more his prey trusted in him. However, the devil was becoming aware that the girl was becoming enchanted with him and he was finding himself weakening in her presence. The devil no longer wanted to devour the girl's soul. He wanted to keep her forever, so in his human skin he remained.

But fate was cruel.

The mortal girl was suddenly afflicted from a grievous illness, unable to leave her bed, and the devil went to the ends of earth to find a cure for her, but none were to be found. His beloved human was losing time, as the illness was eating away inside of her, her fever causing her skin to be slicked with sweat.

The devil cursed the heavens for creating the pure soul he so desperately longed to keep in his hands and cursed hell, for scores of demons would surround the area to devour the soul that so rightfully belonged to him. He threw himself at her side, for he could smell death upon her.

"Forgive me," the girl whispered weakly, her frail hand reaching to grasp his own. The devil took his beloved's hand and used the other to lift her head from her pillow.

"You will not die," he vowed. "I shall make you immortal, a demon like I, and you will live forever."

The girl merely shook her head and offered the devil a heartrending smile. "Do not trouble yourself, humans were meant to die," she murmured weakly. "I wish to die the way I was born—as a human."

The scent of death became stronger as her soul began to fade into oblivion. That unexpectedly brave, utterly pure soul that he saw only as a staple of his diet before he truly allowed himself to become enamored with it—it was fading away each passing second.

His human's hand slackened as her eyes closed. "I set you free, my devil," she breathed out, her last words falling upon his ears. Her hand slipped from his grasp as she took her last breath, the cold of death biting into her flesh.

The devil let out a howl of pure agony as he clutched his beloved's body to him, his human skin melting away to unveil his true flesh. His fangs elongated through his agony and, because of his devastation, lunged his head and tore into the neck of his beloved. Her blood broke free from her wound, staining the sheets where she had lain, soaking the devil's flesh as he devoured her in his refusal to release her as she had released him.

When nothing remained, when all of her flesh was within him, the devil left the home he shared with the mortal girl. In his grief, he returned to hell, hardening his heart until it was nothing but stone, silently honoring his beloved human by vowing to never take another until her soul lives again in a new life.


	2. Chapter One--

I woke up, remembering my mother's expression when she noticed the tears tracking down my cheeks when she finished her story. "What is wrong, my dear?" she had asked, worriedly, pressing a kiss to my head.

"The poor devil, mother," I had answered. "He found someone to change his ways and he lost her."

I hadn't remembered that story until now. My fingers clenched the silk fabric of my sheets unconsciously, my eyes fixed on the canopy. I heard the door to my room open and close.

"I see you've already awaken, young miss."

My eyes flickered to the door, to see her—the only servant in my entire mansion. Her waist-long, dark hair was worn down this time and her eyes—a deep, crimson color—were fixed on me. "Flor."

Flor bowed slightly. "I had been coming up to wake you, young miss, but it seems you have beaten me to it." She straightened before approaching my bedside. "Your breakfast is ready."

I sat up, my own dark hair falling around my shoulders. My stomach rumbled, and I knew I needed to eat right away. "Help me dress."

Flor nodded and proceeded to retrieve my dress, my corset, and my shoes. She was always quick, but she preferred to wait until I was ready myself before doing anything I ask.

Of course, Flor wasn't just a normal girl like I was, with her ethereal beauty and blood-colored eyes. She had this air of always knowing when something troubled me or if I was thinking of past times. But Flor never asked unless I was ready.

Because Flor was…

"Young miss." Her voice sliced through my thoughts like a knife, quick and sharp. She held my garments in her arms and bowed just slightly. "Let us get you dressed. You have many things that need to be done today."

I nodded. "Yes."

I tapped the pen against my desk as my teacher droned on, her lessons so dreadfully boring that my mind almost went hazy. From the bustling downstairs, I knew Flor was working on an array of chores. She was always quick and never had I the reason to reprimand her because all of the tedious work ends up done. It almost made me feel at ease for not hiring more help, but also showing that I relied on Flor so much.

"…This concludes today's lesson, Lady Rosemarie," my teacher spoke suddenly and I nodded as if I were paying attention the whole lot of the time. "Thank you," I replied. As in on cue, Flor had arrived at the door, her expression neutral as she escorted my teacher out, thanking her for coming to teach at my home so splendidly, to accommodate me for my…issues.

I couldn't stand the idea of being in a classroom. There would be so many of children in the classroom and it would be suffocating…

I heard the door close and I stood to walk out to the hallways.

Flor was almost gliding on the stairs to me, holding an envelope in her hand. "It seems you have gotten an invitation, young miss," she murmured.

"For what?" I asked.

"A ball. At Lord Phantomhive's estate."

Phantomhive. I've heard rumors of the heir of the estate. After a fire tragically killing the Lord and Lady Phantomhive, their son had disappeared. Then he had returned, took over the company run by his late sire, and that was all that was said on the matter. I had never met the Lord Phantomhive personally, nor was I that curious to. But it would be rude to refuse an invitation to the ball hosted by Phantomhive.

"What shall we do, young miss?" Flor asked softly, her red eyes fixed on me.

"…It would be rude to refuse an invitation, don't you agree?" I asked just as softy. "Is it for tonight?"

"Yes."

"Well then. We have some preparing to do, don't we?"

Flor's eyes glowed red. "Yes, young miss."


	3. Chapter Two--

The evening had come too quickly for my taste. Flor and I were sitting in a carriage my servant had managed to arrange. It was quiet between us as we travelled. I noticed Flor's posture was tensed, as if she were bracing herself. I wondered why she had become like this until the Phantomhive estate came into view. "Are you ready, young miss?" asked Flor softly, her eyes glowing slightly as the carriage stopped.

"I am." I nodded, my heart beating nervously as I gazed at the large, solemn manor. "Let's get this over with."

With a brisk nod, Flor exited the carriage first, her long hair flying behind her before she held out a hand for me to take. I reached out, my gloved hand resting on her bare hand and Flor's fingers curled securely around my hand. My heart slowed to its normal pace and I held back a smile. Flor always had a way to calm me whenever I was nervous in a public setting. Even now, at this party, I was wondering why I even decided this would be a fun thing to go to.

When my heels clacked on the cobblestone, I raised my eyes to survey the mansion. It was much larger than my own manor, but then again, Phantomhive was practically a household name. There wasn't anyone in the nobility who wouldn't know of the family name. There were nobles already heading inside, chattering amicably, and I sighed. Flor guided me up to the doors and her body seemed to tense, her eyes bright and defiant.

There was a butler there-a handsome one in my opinion. Tall, dark hair with long bangs parted to either side of his face, probably lean in stature from what I could gather. He bowed from the waist when Flor and I approached. "You must be..." he began smoothly.

"-The Lady Rosemarie Lena Samuel, daughter of the late Lord and Lady Samuel," Flor cut in, her eyes half-lidded as she regarded the butler. His gaze found hers and, for a second, I thought I saw recognition in his gaze before it was masked by complete and utter professionalism. Flor gave him the barest of nods before she guided me inside the manor.

It was immaculate, spotless. It looked like the inside of my manor and I was almost stunned. How could anyone else's house be so spotless like how Flor was spotless in her endeavors and she was the only servant I had. Despite the circumstances, she truly was the only friend I've ever had.

In spite of that, I hardly knew anything about her. "Did you know that butler, Flor?" I asked under my breath. Flor gently squeezed my hand as her gaze flickered to me.

"Once upon a time," she answered in that vague way of hers-but I knew that answer had to be that she did know him, but didn't want to talk about it. So I left it alone.

When we entered the huge parlor, it was filled to capacity with nobles as far as the eye can see. All of these nobility, looking all fine and proper, when I can bet on my life that they hide dirty little secrets from the eyes of society.

The glittering asemblage in this parlor had fallen apart in my eyes, the layers peeling away to unveil the shallow, vain, wicked people that these nobility were.

And I hated wearing these laces and ruffles, pretending to be part of it.

I hated that feeling that overcame me-nausea, suffocation.

"Rosie." Flor's hand fell on my shoulder, jerking me from my trance and I glanced up at her. It looked as if she were going to join the other servants, but her eyes held worry for me. She only called me "Rosie" instead of "Young miss" when she was worried.

"I'm all right, Flor." I smiled wobbly, hoping that it would still assure her. "Go on. I'll be fine."

Flor nodded before she disappeared into the throng. The minute I couldn't see her, I felt nervous, trying to move among the crowd like a ghost. Hoping to go unnoticed.

Until I bumped into someone.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" I moaned in apology to the person I bumped into.

"It's quite all right!" The person was a cheerful, blonde girl, whose hair was in pigtails, yet styled as beautiful ringlets. Her eyes were bright and lively and she was beaming the most luminous smile at me. She was beautiful, like a delicate angel. "Oh, you look so pretty in that dress!" she told me, gesturing to my lavender gown. "You _must _tell me who your tailor is! Oh, forgive me, I've haven't even introduced myself. I'm Lizzie!"

"Lizzie?" I questioned at her bubbly nature. She was so energetic and...pink. From head to toe, she was draped in pink.

"Well, my proper title is _Lady _Elizabeth Midford!" Lizzie curtseyed with a giggle. My eyes widened in surprise. Lady Elizabeth Midford was another name I recognized, not only for her fencing prowess, but also that she was affianced to the current Lord Phantomhive. I curtseyed hurriedly. "A pleasure, Lady Elizabeth. My name is Rosemarie Samuel," I said.

"Call me Lizzie!" Lizzie pouted cutely before smiling softly. "Rosemarie Samuel, hm? I was so sorry to hear about your late parents. I could only imagine how hard it was for you."

"Thank you, Lizzie." I nodded. "Grief is something that happens to us, but...I am sure my parents are watching over me." Or cursing me from their graves for surviving when they did not.

"You really are cute, " Lizzie said with another glowing smile. "Fetching, really, like the woman who accompanied you!"

Ah, she was talking about Flor. I would agree with her; Flor was fetching in such a surreal way that made her attractive to males. However, when she referred to me, I wondered if Lizzie just had a fondness for cute things?

"Is it all right if I call you Rosie?" Lizzie asked. "It's cuter than Rosemarie!"

"That's...fine," I answered with a smile. The only one who called me Rosie was Flor, but I figured Lizzie was the type who got her way. It was probably just the way she was.

Lizzie grabbed my hand with an excited smile. "Come on, Rosie! I want you to meet Ciel!" she exclaimed. I allowed Lizzie to pull me along the parlor, weaving through the throng of nobles. She perked when she caught sight of this Ciel person. "Ciel! I have a lovely new friend you absolutely must meet!" Lizzie exclaimed happily, hauling me forward with enough force to make me stumble, my gaze to the floor.

When I lifted my eyes, I was surprised to meet the singular blue orb of the frail-looking, navy-haired boy Lizzie had unceremoniously presented me before. He regarded me stoically, although he did glance at Lizzie. "You've made another acquaintance, Lizzie?" he asked her coolly, but I noticed it was less so in Lizzie's presence than mine.

Lizzie beamed a smile at him. "Yes! This is my new friend, Rosie!" She linked her arm with mine and looked at me. "Rosie, this is Ciel Phantomhive!"

_This was the current Lord Phantomhive?! _The way his reputation was, I assumed he was much older. He was no older than I. Ciel gave me a brief nod. "Earl Ciel Phantomhive," he greeted.

"Lady Rosemarie Samuel," I replied. Something flickered in his blue iris-as if he heard of the misfortune that befell the Samuel family. That I was the only one that survived that misfortune.

With the aid of my dark-winged, red-eyed angel.

Lizzie took my arm again. "Rosie came with such a fetching maid, I even saw Sebastian looking at her with interest!"

Sebastian? Was that the name of the butler who greeted us? It wouldn't explain Flor's tension around him, but it does give me a name to the face. Lizzie caught my curious expression and giggled. "Oh, Sebastian is Ciel's most trusted butler! He's quite handsome, isn't he?"

"I suppose he is," I replied idly. "He seemed to recognize my maid, Flor, but she is awfully tightlipped about herself."

"That won't do, what if a man wanted to marry her?" asked Lizzie with a huff. "And with her looks, I am sure she could snatch any man she wants!"

"Flor has always been more concerned for me, to be honest." I looked at Lizzie. "She's never shown any interest in anything except her job."

"Do you make it a habit to be concerned about your maid?" asked Ciel, looking at me curiously.

"Flor is more than my mere maid," I told Ciel coolly. "She is my only friend. I cherish her."

"Do you?" he sneered.

"I do. If you insult the closeness I have with my maid, this acquaintance will end before it even begins, _Earl Phantomhive_." I spun on my heel and walked away from him, my shoes clacking on the polished floor, ignoring Lizzie's call for me.

Flor was important to me, even though she would most likely be the death of me. I didn't like anyone who scrutinized my relationship with her, would not tolerate them.

When I stepped into the hallways, I stopped at hearing Flor's voice.

"...Never thought I'd run into you here, with the Phantomhive boy, of all places."

I heard a male voice reply smoothly, "You did not expect me to just idle. Yet you've changed, haven't you, _flora mea_?"

I peeked around the wall. Flor was standing in front of the butler who greeted us-Sebastian, Lizzie called him-her eyes glowing with anger. Her arms were crossed while he caught a curling lock of her dark hair, his posture almost predatory, yet...

"You are not allowed to call me that." Flor's tone was cold as she nearly shoved his hand away from her. "Not you most of all, _feras_."

"_Esses de te mihi est mori, _Flor?" he asked her coldly, his hand gripping her chin now to force her to look at him.

"_Sicut rogavi te ut tua,_" she whispered harshly before she jerked her head away and walked away from him. My heart was pounding even though I had no idea what was said between them.

But even I knew that however they knew each other before, it was something personal.

When Flor passed where I was overhearing, she barely gasped at the sight of me. "Young miss," she murmured. "Did you need me?"

I wanted to go home. But I knew Flor wanted to not be in that butler's line of sight tonight any more than I wanted to deal with Lizzie's Ciel. She would take any reason of mine to leave right now.

"No," I murmured. "No, I did not. I just needed some air." I smiled. "Thank you, Flor."

"Of course, young miss." She bowed. "Just notify me if you are to need me."

"I will." I smiled again and walked into the parlor, this time with determination.

I was going to ask Ciel what his butler had for my maid. And I wasn't leaving without any answers.


	4. Chapter Three--

My shoes clack on the polished floor as I made my way through the bodies of the chattering nobles. My heart was pounding from encountering Flor and that other butler earlier, that it made me wonder.

Was his butler…?

I shook my head, navigating the waters of this party to catch the sight of the familiar, bubbly blonde. "Lizzie!"

Lizzie turned around before her lips curled into a smile. "Rosie! I'd thought you had gone home!" she exclaimed, running up to me and grabbing my hands before her expression turned apologetic. "Oh, I'm so sorry about Ciel. I thought he would be a bit nicer."

Just the mention of the taciturn little earl that spoke like royalty irritated me. He reminded me of an imp if anything, but he and Lizzie were obviously close. "I'm sure being head of the household does that to a person," I said, biting down any vile words that would come up.

Lizzie smiled. "You're ever so kind."

Not really, but she didn't need to know that. I forced a smile in spite of my mood. "Speaking of Ciel, where is he?" I asked. Lizzie's green eyes sparkled as she pointed to where Ciel was currently speaking to a few noblemen. Most likely people who aid in supplies or some such with his company, important people.

I walked over to him, feeling strands of my hair come loose from my bun, as I got closer. He noticed me, I knew, because his eye caught sight of me before he politely excused himself.

"May I have a word with you? Privately?" I asked, not caring about how upfront it was. I never cared about image when out in public. Ciel nodded briskly as he led the way to the hall, out of earshot of any lingering, nosy nobleperson.

"What is it?" he asked, gripping his walking stick. "Last I recall, you were about to leave."

"You have one as well?" I didn't ask in a hushed voice. I leveled my gaze to his, crossed my arms.

"What are you going on about?" Ciel's tone was biting, his brow drawn, his eye seeming cold. It was an intimidation tactic, but I was far from intimidated. I answered him, my voice just as cutting. "You know very well what I'm going on about: your butler, your _personal _butler, the one who greeted my maid and I. He's one of _them_, isn't he?"

I saw the surprise in his eye before it iced over once more. "I haven't any idea what nonsense you are spouting. You know you sound quite mad."

I tried not to growl.

"_Them_"was what I referred to what Flor truly was, what she called herself. After seeing her with that butler from earlier, I was positive that he was one as well. Ciel knew that, he had to have known that much. Why was he trying to make me out to be mad?

My hand shot out to seize his wrist—he was a delicate little thing, I was undoubtedly stronger. "Where is it?"

"Release me at once."

"_Where is it_?"

"What are you-"

"Your goddamned mark, Phantomhive! Where is it?!"

A panicked expression cracked through the cold façade and as soon as it had, a gloved hand wrapped around the wrist of the hand gripping his. "Beg your pardon, young miss," spoke a smooth, cold voice, "but please refrain from placing a hand on the young master."

My eyes flickered to the face of the butler from earlier—Sebastian. His entire demeanor was professional, yet there was an underlying terror I sensed within him. He was one of _them _and I could see past that handsome, _human _disguise.

I suddenly couldn't breathe, my lungs squeezing together, my throat constricting. I was drowning, suffocating, couldn't break free-

"Please refrain," spoke an equally cold voice, a voice I recognized, "from laying a hand on _my_ mistress, _Michaelis_."

Flor was at my side, her arm going around me to hold me close. Anger radiated from her, so palpable, I could taste it—metallic like blood. I knew her eyes would flash a deeper, darker crimson—a rare occurrence, but a testament to how grievous an offense one committed to either her or I. In this case, this butler placing a hand on me was by far the most grievous of offenses that anyone could commit.

When I raised my eyes to her, Flor's hair framed her face to give her anger an almost dignified air. However, her eyes were as deep crimson as I had thought, her teeth slightly bared as Sebastian released my wrist and I released Ciel.

"How can this be?" muttered Ciel, his eye on Flor. "She's like you, Sebastian?"

"I'm nothing like him," Flor spat before her attention turned toward me and her expression and demeanor changed. She was tender. Loving. "Forgive us, Lord Phantomhive, but my mistress is quite exhausted and it is time we take our leave." She curtseyed before she swept me away in the directions of the door.

* * *

"Whatever were you thinking, young miss?" Flor chided me as soon as we were in the carriage. "You cannot just blatantly demand someone to show them the mark of their contract when there are people around. It jeopardizes the fact that he and you could be tried for worshipping devils."

"I didn't worship any devil," I muttered, crossing my arms. "I knew his butler had to be one the minute I saw you both in the hallway afore."

"Ah, so you did overhear." Flor shook her head as she undid my hair from its bun, running her fingers through the knots.

"You both know each other," I told her. "Though you won't tell me how, I know you both are the same thing."

"We aren't any such thing," said Flor briskly before her tone softened. "Young miss, we must be careful about the things we say. You realize I only-"

"I know." Of course I knew. The terms of our contract, the mark imprinted onto the small of my back, an intimate location that no one will see. I knew.

Flor sighed. "Young miss, how much have you deduced by now?"

"Between you and the butler? You both have a sordid history and you refuse to divulge it to me." It was true. Anything personal in Flor's past as one of them would be locked up tighter than anyone in the queen's dungeon.

But the way the butler looked at Flor when she intervened with he, Ciel, and I—I may be naïve and inexperienced, but I could see that the sliver of the past meant something to him and it pertained to Flor and her hatred for being one of them. It was silent the rest of the way home and by the time we've arrived, Flor had decided to whisk me inside by carrying me like the child I was in her arms.

The night had always posed as dangerous. My eyes adjusted to the darkness long ago after I had taken my bath and Flor had given me tea to soothe my restlessness, so I could sleep.

But I couldn't sleep.

My thoughts were sticking, unsticking; the frivolity of maintaining image of the proud Samuel line as being the only one left as heir and the sheer horror of how the role was thrust upon me. It was as though it was a disease, some unnamed disease and it ate away at my insides before attacking my flesh.

We had lived in a time where we were ignorant in that frivolity, thinking solely for ourselves. My parents, brothers, and I. We lived for ourselves and for the proud family name. My brothers were betrothed to some noblemen's daughters from some families that were just as privileged as mine. My parents were about to betroth me to some son of a businessman. Things were going well for us.

Then the terrible, awful thing happened. It happened at night, when we were vulnerable, and everything that was ever normal for my family and I was torn to pieces. In one night, everything was destroyed. I was the unfortunate witness to the most horrific of all and I remembered screaming for God to help us, to send an angel to smite the wicked.

No angel came. No hand of God was brought down.

Just a silhouette of a dark creature with wings, glowing red eyes and dripping fangs. It had let out a maddened roar and wrought vengeance for me without my even asking it to.

At the same time, I heard something beneath the madness of that creature's shrieks. There was pain, there was agony. There was something rooted inside this creature that would destroy it if it didn't draw blood and violence.

As soon as it was done, the creature came into the faintest sliver of moonlight that beamed through the windows and my eyes had widened.

She was covered in blood, but she was the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. But she was the embodiment of the darkness roiling inside of me, of the agony, of the anger, of the sadness. She spoke in a strange language, but when I didn't understand, she spoke in English.

"You summoned me," was what she said.

I couldn't understand what happened next. But then, I had realized I had somehow entered a contract with this dark being and she became someone I absolutely trusted.

The devil did have a golden-hearted monster among his ranks.

It was the thought of mad people; people in the asylums. I wasn't like them. But sometimes, it felt as though I was.

When morning broke through my windows, Flor had entered my room after knocking, bringing in a tray of my small breakfast. "You have a guest, young miss," she said. "She is waiting for you downstairs."

"She?" I tilted my head before sipping my tea. Flor nodded.

"All right. Let me finish and we can head down," I told her and Flor bowed.

"Yes, young miss."

After I finished my breakfast and Flor had aided in putting me into the suffocating dresses I always hated to wear, I walked downstairs with Flor trailing behind me like a guard dog. As I entered the main entrance, a young blonde, looking no older than one of my brothers, stood. She was dressed in a light blue gown, a pearl necklace hugging her pale throat. She wasn't followed about by a personal maid, which was strange to me. Her attire was well enough where she was of noble class, yet something seemed off about her.

Her eyes—the color of sapphires—sparkled briefly as she curtseyed. "Lady Rosemarie. I don't know if you remember me," she said, her curled, blonde hair falling over her bare shoulders.

I certainly didn't remember anyone like her. "Forgive me, I do not."

She almost looked hurt, but masked it easily. "I was betrothed to your brother Zane," she told me, her voice soft.

That's when it hit me. I remembered the blonde girl who joined on mother's and my outings and occasionally strolled about with Zane, the less conventional with women of my two brothers. He was always shy around her, she around him, but they were perfect for each other.

Oh, I remembered her now. I remembered the girl who was to be my sister before the terror happened.

"Charity," I whispered.


	5. Chapter Four--

Charity smiled at me softly when I whispered her name. "So you do remember me. I am glad, Lady Rosemarie," she told me, her smile glowing just faintly.

Zane was awfully enthusiastic about marrying Lady Charity. He went on about how beautiful she was, how sweet and kind. I was glad he seemed happy and enamored with his soon-to-be bride. However, he often had gone to see her by himself. I haven't met her until now, but only saw a photograph.

Charity's smile seemed strained, something I couldn't understand. Why on earth would she appear to be forcing herself to come here? Her eyes darted around the house, a nervous reaction I was sure. But of what?

"M'lady," Flor's murmur was just so that we could hear her from the entrance, even though she stood at the ready by the grand staircase. "I am sure you and your guest would like some tea. Would you care to reside in the sitting room while I prepare a cup for you?"

"I won't be staying long, I'm afraid," said Charity, her eyes glistening with an impenetrable sadness. "I just came to see my sister-in-law-"

"Nonsense," I cut her off of her rambling. "Come, have tea with me. I am sure your family will understand if you are a little late returning."

She stiffened, but nodded with another strained smile and Flor lead us to the sitting room. I knew my way without Flor's guidance, but I knew she did so out of propriety. Women weren't supposed to be _too _independent, I suppose—although, as my mind flew to Lizzie and the family from which she hailed from, her mother was a prime example of a powerful woman. I had come from the Samuel house, with our own glory as merchants for trade. I realized I knew nothing of the family my would-be sister-in-law hailed. When Zane returned from her home, he never spoke about her family, but was determined to have her out of the home as soon as physically able. It was why their wedding was set before the terrible moment that took my family away from me and saddled me with my red-eyed flower.

When I sat on one of our chairs, Charity took the seat opposite of me and that was when I saw it: with Charity's head bowed and looking away from me, I could see the scantest evidence of a bruise on the back of her neck. An intense anger gripped me, choking me in its iron grip. Someone had harmed the precious girl that my brother intended with his entire heart to marry. I bit back the urge to demand names, telling myself not to jump to conclusions, but I couldn't help the rage. Charity had been the sun, moon, and sky to my brother—and to ask questions about her plight would prove that I was prying in business that wasn't mine, but would have been rightfully so if Zane had lived and married Charity as planned. I realized then, that I didn't even know Charity's surname. Surely as a young woman wearing a fine gown that matched her eyes, she was prospering, wealthy. But I saw no happiness in her.

"Your maid is lovely," Charity remarked with another smile. "Although I must say, your late brother never mentioned her afore."

"Flor is a…recent acquisition," I told her softly, my fingers drumming against the soft material of the chair's arm. "She's ever so devoted to my needs, I don't know what I would have done without her being here."

I haven't mentioned outright of the plight of my house, but Charity observed me with a look of pure and utter sympathy. It was as if I had mentioned every detail of what happened and she wanted to be my rock. I haven't needed that since then. Not since I acquired Flor, who was a ruthless as she was beautiful, a deadly flower with an even deadlier wall of thorns that protected me, a fragile lily. Charity leaned forward slightly. "Your lord brother…did he…" She swallowed and unshed tears shone in her eyes, "did he suffer?"

I wished I could lie. I truly wished it. "Yes," I answered, my voice going ever so softer. "We all…suffered." That wasn't the right word for it, but it was as close as it would come.

Just then, Flor swept in, carrying a tray with two cups of tea. I loved those cups, with their delicate floral patterns. Mother had loved them too. When Flor set the tray down on the small table, she bowed. "Just call if you need me, m'lady," she said before straightening up to look at me. I nodded at her and Flor left the room as quickly as she came. Charity took one of the delicate cups in her, sipping the tea, and sighing in content. "Your maid makes wonderful tea."

"Flor is quite able at whatever she endeavors. That's what makes me glad to have her." I smiled at her, taking my cup and drinking it. Flor must have put honey in mine without my asking. She was strangely adept at my habits. The tea went down smoothly and warmth spread through my body. "So, Charity," I murmured, placing my cup on the table, my eyes on her. "You seem rather nervous."

Charity bit onto her lower lip, the agitation in her blue eyes dimming the open light in them. She pushed strands of her golden hair behind her ear. "I…forgive me, I did not realize I appeared nervous," she replied softly. She sighed heavily. "I am just…" she trailed off, closing her eyes. Her plight seemed more apparent as her hair fell over her other shoulder, concealing the bruise I beheld. Someone had been hurting my brother's betrothed and I longed to ask if it were from her family. However, even when Zane was alive, Charity had been so tightlipped about her family when visiting mine and Zane would change the subject right away. I wondered why, until something comprehended in my mind.

"Did my brother know? About your plight within your home?" I asked softly. Charity opened her eyes and the pain in her eyes was even more prominent. She nodded slowly. "He had witnessed it when he would come courting at my family home," she murmured. "I had begged him not to cancel the engagement, but Lord Zane, he…" Her eyes filled with tears. "He was so understanding, so kind, that he gave me his word that he would not breathe a word, that he would marry me as planned." She smiled through her tears, a faint upward tilt of her lips. "Good man, Zane was."

"Charity." I leveled my gaze on her, curling my hands upon my lap. "If your plight is so…unspeakable, why not find another betroth to escape?"

"Lady Rosemarie," sighed Charity heavily, "if there is one person you do not wish to cross, it would be my younger brother."

"Your brother?" I blinked. "You have a brother?"

Charity nodded. "Yes. In our manor, my brother and I reside with out servants. My brother is not…well. He is quite volatile and would abuse our maid. I could never understand why. It became even worse when I intervened during his bout of abuse and he turned his rage upon me."

"Then why not leave? Why not come to me, at least?"

"Lady Rosemarie, with all due respect, you were enduring the loss of your family."

It was true, but it wasn't my point. I set my lips into a thin line. "I refuse to let you return home if your brother continues to harm you this way, Charity. You will stay here with me."

"I couldn't!" Charity gasped, standing up, her blue eyes wide. "Oh, Lady Rosemarie, I couldn't impose-"

"It is what my brother would have wanted, Charity. You both behaved well enough as if you had already married and my brother adored you. I refuse to let my sister be in harm's way. If your brother would be concerned for you, which I doubt, he can come to my home and repent for all what he's done to you." I meant my words. This young woman was afraid to return home. I refused to send her back. I turned toward the door when Charity slowly sat back down, so gracefully in spite of the fact that she unveiled why she never spoke of her family. "Flor!" I called.

The door opened no more than a moment later and Flor entered with a bow of her head. "Yes, young miss?" she murmured, her dark eyes at half-mast.

"Ready a room for Charity," I said firmly, gazing at my maid firmly, "and be quick about it. That's an order."

Flor's gaze flickered to Charity, but I could see the barest downturn of her lips before she bowed swiftly. "Yes, young miss. I shall see to it at once," she replied before she straightened and swept out of the door.

"This is too much to ask of you," mumbled Charity, her fingers splayed against her skirts. She looked almost terrified at the fact that her brother may incur his wrath upon my home, but she also seemed relieved—like someone finally awakening from a nightmare. I smiled at her. "You are safe now, Charity. No one would dare harm you here."

"You're certain?" she asked.

I nodded, my smile still in place. "Flor is more capable than you think."

The night was still when the darkness had fallen. My eyes were adjusted to the dark, however my heart was slowing to a slow drum. Flor had readied my brother's room for her, which seemed to be quite a good choice. Zane made Charity feel safe, promising her that he would take her away. Perhaps being surrounded by his precious knickknacks and books would soothe her spirits and heal the scars etched upon her soul. Heaven knows, we all had scars on our souls at one point. I turned beneath my quilts, the drowsiness assailing me before my eyes slowly shut…

"_Be still, little princess." The voice was cold, cruel, as the blunt edge of a razor blade was caressed against my cheek. I met the eyes of this monster wearing a human face as he moved to my bound parents, writhing on the floor. There were others, dressed in black hoods, but they were just as bloodthirsty. The one holding the knife seized my father's hair in his free hand and forced his head upward to expose his neck. I whimpered. _

"_Please," my father pleaded, "please, I will give you whatever you want. Any of my possessions! Just spare my family and I, I beg of you!" _

"_You think we want your money?" The man murmured coldly as he caressed the blade against my father's neck. "You think we desire material things? No, we desire something much more. We intend to summon it here in order to achieve that desire."_

"_Please…not in front of my children, please…" My father begged. _

_My brothers began to curse and another hooded figure went to them. I couldn't look away fast enough to see their blood arching into the air. I screamed, watching their bodies fall onto the floor. _

"_NOT MY SONS!" My mother shrieked in agony. "NOT MY SONS!" Another glint of the blade and her blood splattered. _

"_NO!" My father roared. My soul began to separate from my body, unable to bear this, but I couldn't not see what I had just witnessed…_

Sweat drenched my skin as my breaths escaped in shallow bursts. My heart was like a caged bird, beating wildly against my skin. I blinked once, twice, to get my bearings, to remember the fact that I wasn't there, in that moment. I was here, in the present, alive. Yet, my family lies underneath the earth after a brutal nightmare that would forever plague me like an illness. I closed my eyes once more, to try to rest.

A hiss echoed from the outside and my eyes opened again. Slowly, I rose from my bed, my feet on the floor as I pushed myself toward my window and drew the curtain aside. Down below was Flor, her body tensed like a guard dog. Whom she was in the presence of I could not tell through the darkness. Flor's voice was like a whip, each word a lash against one's flesh. "You are not welcome upon the premises of my mistress's property. You would be wise to leave this minute."

A male voice spoke then, cold, unfamiliar, yet a chill had fallen upon my skin. "You have something quite precious of my master's here, dearest flower," the tone seemed mocking, a play on the fact that Flor's name was a foreign word for flower. "You have attempted to be sympathetic to your charge; however, I cannot allow you to have taken one of mine."

"You have no contract with the lady Charity. Only your charge and my mistress has seen the marks he leaves upon her." Flor's tone was just as cold, every inflection an attempt to ward this being away from my home—and away from Charity. "You forget that your ward's noble sister was betrothed to my dear mistress's lord brother before the _unfortunate _accident."

"Is that how you refer things?" The words were drawn out. "Let me see if I am understanding your blatant disregard to how our species functions. You believe because you are from such an unusual and _unfortunate _accident yourself that you are beyond the scope of we demons? Or is it due to some remaining loyalty to Michaelis?"

So the person Flor was fending off was one of _Them_. I bit my tongue to hold the urge to scream down below, to order Flor to rip the intruder apart so that not even the crows could peck at his remains.

"I will only repeat myself once," hissed Flor. "Leave right now and I will not come for your head. Come back to my mistress's home in the dead of night again and I will not show you mercy, even if you are of higher status in hell."

Whatever was conveyed, I knew that the other presence, whomever it was, had gone. I realized that my fingers gripped the curtains until the flesh was mottled white. Whoever that one was, he had come for my brother's love. I gritted my teeth. I had figured that Phantomhive was the only other who had one of those in his service. Apparently, the ward of this one was Charity's younger brother. There were more of them than I thought.

However…the name Michaelis was familiar. I flipped through my memory before realizing that was what Flor had called Phantomhive's butler. So she had some loyalty to _him_? In what regard? How did they know each other? How far did their history go?

That was it. I would go see Phantomhive tomorrow with Charity in tow. If I had to get down to this business, I would. I wouldn't care how long it would take.


End file.
